"That may be, but I am sure you would grant me a favor you would refuse Lord Wilmot. Come, Saint-Herem, don't be inflexible—give me a discount, and—"
"Monsieur de Saint-Herem," broke in the countess, "I shall take the house on the conditions you proposed."
"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed Florestan, extending his hand toward her. "My good star never deserts me, madame; the affair is settled."
"But, madame—" interposed the duke, surprised and annoyed at the liberality of his future wife, and still hoping to obtain a reduction on the price, "this is a matter involving considerable money! And at the point we have reached, it is impossible that you should act without my authority. When we are married—"
"Monsieur de Saint-Herem, you have my word," interrupted the countess, with a scornful glance at the duke. "This purchase is a personal matter; my steward will negotiate with yours to-morrow, at any time you may wish."
"Agreed, madam," assented Florestan; then turning to M. de Riancourt, he added gaily, "I hope you will bear me no ill-will, my dear duke; you should show yourself to be a real grand seigneur, and not bargain like a banker."
The orchestra; which had been silent for a quarter of an hour, now struck up a new cotillion.
"Pardon me, countess," resumed the young man, "but I must leave you. I am to dance this cotillion with the charming daughter of one of the best workmen who assisted in the building of this mansion—or rather of your mansion, madame. And I cannot tell you how happy I am to carry away that thought in leaving you."
He bowed respectfully, and vanished in the throng.
"My dear Foedora," said the princess, who had remarked the long tête-à-tête of her niece and Saint-Herem with much impatient anxiety, "it is growing late, and we promised Madame de Sardaigne to come early."